Mistaken Identity
by The Revampire
Summary: At an "End of The Second Wizarding War" celebration, Pansy loses Draco. However, Draco finds "Pansy" to rant about that git Harry Potter. Who he absolutely hates. Pre-slash. After War, Not brit picked. My british comes from Google, The Harry Potter series, Sherlock BBC, and other british mainstream media so it may be all wrong. Sorry in advance. Obviously ooc.


Pansy enters the lobby of the ballroom that the Ministry is renting to host its umpteenth celebration for the victory of the Second Wizarding War. The celebrations have gotten a bit tedious by now, seven months later; but Pansy gets why it's so celebrated. Most didn't think it would ever end or that the light side would be victorious. However, the novelty has worn off for her, so she only comes to these parties now because the food is good and there is always an open bar.

She checks in her coat and makes her way to the ballroom. It's much larger than the last ballroom and colored better - the last one had a horrid bright yellow and pea green color scheme with a lime green stained wood floor. This room has cream walls with gold trim and a large dance floor made of gold marble; a tremendous improvement.

Pansy scans the room, looking for her grumpy friend. When he does decide to show up to these parties he always arrives early so that he can find a good hiding spot. She avoids looking at the couples out on the dance floor and at the groups of people standing together eating, drinking, and talking. Her gaze sticks to the shadowed corners of the room. It only takes her a moment to spot Draco, standing alone in the far right corner of the ballroom.

He is wearing pale grey dress robes made of satin and his hair is slicked back flawlessly, and if she were still attracted to him she would find him stunning. Well, she does, but no longer in a need-to-take-him-to-bed kind of way.

Draco is pressed close to the wall as if he could truly blend into it, drinking from a large glass filled with amber liquid.

Pansy makes her way over to him, needing to make sure that he doesn't spend his night alone, and to simply bother him just because she can.

Draco notices her when she is just a few feet from him. His expression lightens to an almost smile before his face returns to its ever-present sullenness.

Pansy refrains from rolling her eyes.

When she reaches him, she singsongs "Ta-da!" while doing a little twirl. "What do you think?" she asks, indicating her attire.

Draco lazily looks her over, taking in the Muggle dress that she chooses to wear instead of traditional dress robes and her sparkly lavender heels. The short plum cocktail dress has a lace top and too much tulle making the skirt fluffier than he thinks is necessary. As his eyes travel upwards, he considers her dark purple lipstick and smokey lavender and black eyeshadow and then his eyes linger on her new haircut, which is much shorter than her just-past-her-shoulder length locks he saw her with a few days ago. It's cropped with a little length on the top and the sides and styled in a messy way that makes him want to run his fingers through it to relax it; so that it stops uncomfortably reminding him of another raven-haired, messy head. He is almost certain that she did it on purpose, but considers that maybe he is being just a tad paranoid.

He nods at her head. "You look like a boy," he finally comments and takes a sip of his drink. He works hard at suppressing a smile because he is just trying to rile her up for his own amusement.

Pansy scowls but doesn't take his remark to heart; his misery has wanted her company for the last few weeks.

"Well, _I_ think I look _stunning_ ," she counters airily, her head held high. She snatches the glass from his hand and leans against the wall next to him. She takes a large gulp and immediately regrets it. She sputters and coughs. "What the hell is in this?! It tastes like the entire bar!"

Draco casually takes the glass back, taking a swig before saying, "You wouldn't be wrong." He smiles amused, briefly.

"You're getting a little pathetic, Dear," she remarks moodily.

"Getting?" he scoffs. "Already there, Love. I'm not delusional," he says faintly bitter, and then adds, softly, "He's been speaking to the Weaslette."

Pansy sighs lightly, wishing she had her own drink. "Well, they _are_ friends - doesn't mean anything. You still speak to me."

"I never dated you," he says pointedly, pouting.

Pansy smirks but her tone is thoughtful as she says, "True. Snogging and shagging for two years just to take your mind off Potter doesn't _really_ count as dating, does it?"

He gives her a dry look. "Please tell me you're joking?"

She gives him a reassuring grin. "I am not _that_ sentimental. It was fun, but believe me, I don't miss it. _But_ if I knew cutting you off would lead to you becoming this depressed bastard...I _might_ have reconsidered."

Draco snorts, entertained. "No, you wouldn't have. You were getting bored of me and sick of our families pressuring us to marry." He then adds thoughtfully, smirking, "Or was it that you were getting sick of me and bored of our families pressuring us to marry?"

"Either one, really," Pansy answers easily, amused. "Anyway; so, what has your eavesdropping picked up with the two?"

Draco shrugs. "They go out often but claim they aren't dating. Weasley seems to think otherwise. Was telling Granger that he feels that they seem to be close to a reunion." He says it so indifferently that had Pansy not been his best friend she would have believed that it didn't _truly_ bother him. However, she _is_ his best friend - if truthful, his only friend - and she can tell he is hurting.

"Well, you know Weasley has always been an idiot," she consoles.

Draco finishes his drink in a large swallow. "So have I," he says despondently.

"No argument here," Pansy remarks, grabbing a flute of champagne off a tray as a waiter walks by. She takes a large gulp. It's always easier dealing with a depressed Draco while intoxicated.

"You know it's mostly your fault, right?" she points out casually. "Every time you two are together, _your_ awful mouth _always_ has to insult him or his friends."

Draco considers her words for a moment before he shrugs and says, "Can't help it. He brings it out in me."

Pansy looks over at him unimpressed. "No. You're just a terrible person with an equally terrible mouth," she states matter of factly as she finishes off her champagne.

Draco doesn't deny it and looks into his empty cup pensively, as if trying to will it to refill itself.

"Evening, you two," Blaise says cordially, appearing next to them suddenly.

Both jolt, startled, but recover quickly.

Draco simply grunts a greeting and Pansy gives Blaise a flirtatious smile, her gaze moving over him slowly, assessing his rich emerald green robes made of velvet that enhance his already enticing body.

Blaise returns a small leer of his own, his eyes roving over Pansy just as interested.

"Hi; good to see you here," Pansy says sincerely pleased. Blaise always makes these bland parties more enjoyable and is also a great dance partner. Or at least, he's the only person she enjoys dancing with.

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm still here. And really wishing I wasn't," he announces with false distaste.

Blaise and Pansy only chuckle.

Blaise pats Draco on the shoulder fondly. "Been a while, Draco," he half states, half accuses.

"Work," Draco explains simply.

Blaise nods, accepting the answer easily, knowing Draco wasn't going to go into detail anyway.

The three fall into an awkward silence then. Draco figures it's probably because, from what Pansy tells him, Blaise usually spends these parties exclusively with her and is probably trying to find a polite way to take her from him. Pansy is most likely trying to figure out how to let Blaise down easy because she is just that great of a friend.

Draco, however, decides he's not feeling that selfish tonight.

"Please go away. Feeling you both think is suffocating," Draco pleads, feigning irritation.

Blaise and Pansy both look relieved, but then Pansy's expression settles into concerned guilt.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be alone," she says worriedly.

"You don't want me to _feel_ alone," Draco corrects. "I don't. I came just to get out. I didn't really expect to be with you _all_ night. Which is okay. Leave."

Pansy nods, looking more at ease. "Well, then what are you going to do?"

Draco raises his glass. "Get a refill; lurk mostly."

Pansy gives him a small, disapproving look. "How many have you had already?"

"Two before you showed up," he answers. "You know I can hold my liquor, Darling."

"To a certain point," she argues.

"I'll be fine. I'll stay right here in this spot, drinking, and you can come check on me in about an hour. I won't leave without telling you," Draco promises.

Pansy seems appeased by that plan. "Fine. One hour. And I _will_ be back, need to make sure that you don't drink yourself to death. Or do anything stupid."

Draco toasts her with his empty glass. "Always can count on you to make sure that I don't die in a pathetic way or make a fool of myself."

Pansy kisses his cheek. "It's why I'm your best friend."

"No. Me not liking most people and most people not liking me is why you are my best friend," Draco states plainly but not too sincerely. She's his best friend because she witnessed his darkness and sullen moods during and after the war and still stayed. He knows he's incredibly fortunate to have her unconditional love.

Pansy rolls her eyes. "Don't get too depressed or depressing, please," she requests seriously.

"Have fun," Draco bids pointedly.

Pansy frowns slightly but just sighs resignedly. "Fine. See you in a bit, then."

"Thanks," Blaise says, patting his back, taking Pansy's hand and leading her to the dance floor.

Draco heads to the bar for the refill he so desperately needs.

* * *

Draco spends most of his time drinking and watching couples dance on the dance floor, clearly enjoying themselves. He makes sure to pace his drinking but within half an hour he's already on his fifth cup of nearly every spirit that can fit into it.

For a while, he focuses on Blaise and Pansy as they press close together and twirl around on the floor. She smiles easily with Blaise and Blaise seems just as happy to be with her. Draco decides that he likes the two together. He hopes that they eventually decide to start meeting outside of the celebrations. He thinks they could be good for each other; and to each other. Or at least Blaise is the only guy who hasn't consistently ticked off Pansy. The only complaint he has heard from Pansy about Blaise is that he murders her toes while dancing when he's had too much to drink. And Draco figures Blaise must be special since that's _all_ she's mentioned. Other guys that she's dated, her complaints about them could fill multiple tomes.

After a few songs, he gets bored of watching the two and moves his attention to the other couples; most look relaxed and happy. Which darkens his mood a bit because he realizes that he can't really remember the last time he felt that way _genuinely_. He has been so busy with work at the Ministry that he's alienated most of his friends; not that he had many to begin with. And others still ostracize him for the mark on his left arm that has not burned him in seven months now.

Draco then spots Potter - or _Harry_ as he's started to refer to him in his mind lately - wearing royal purple traditional dress robes that cling to him rather than hang loosely. He is dancing with Granger, smiling and laughing and simply looking content. Draco is damn near envious of him but he reminds himself that he put himself in this situation. That he created his own miserable prison. It doesn't stop him from feeling bitter, though.

Draco spends some time just watching Harry as he switches dance partners every few songs; he dances with Granger a while, then Luna Lovegood; Mrs. Weasley gets a dance and then surprisingly Weasley - Ron.

The two seem awkward but in a playful way. They laugh like maniacs as they trip over each other and try not to get too close to each other despite needing to since most of the songs require that you be close to your partner; having five inches between them ruins their rhythm.

After their disaster of a dance, Harry passes most of his time dancing and talking with the Weaslette. They are always in each other's personal space and seem to thoroughly enjoy one another's company. By then Draco is on his sixth cup and siding with Weasley that they will probably be back together by the end of the night.

His mood sours considerably.

As he finishes his sixth drink, Draco's vision is pretty blurry and he can feel the world, or himself, wobbling even though he knows he is standing still. At least he thinks he is.

He's lost track of Pansy and Blaise altogether and stopped watching Harry and his friends.

Draco starts to feel a little annoyed at being held hostage by Pansy. She has been gone just a little over her promised hour. He honestly would like to just go home and pass out but knows better than to just leave without telling her. He has incurred that wrath before and has decided that he doesn't need to again.

He continues to stand in his corner but is beginning to feel a little overheated. He decides that it should be okay to just step outside for a few minutes for some fresh air. He'll make it quick so that he returns before Pansy notices and can start making worst-case scenarios. Or he doesn't come back in time and just accepts the wrath he hoped to avoid.

Draco abandons his glass at an empty table and totters through the crowd, constantly apologizing to those he bumps into, making his way to the large windowed doors that lead out to the veranda.

Once outside, he congratulates himself for not ending up on his face on his way out and feels much better because of the light, cool breeze. He looks around the large area that has many ivory colored, smoothed stone benches lining the perimeter and iron torches are placed around, giving off a dim glow; that doesn't help much with vision when you're completely smashed and the world is spinning at an uncomfortable speed.

Some of the benches are already occupied with groups of people sitting together, talking comfortably. They glance at him but do nothing more. Apparently, _thankfully_ , having fun is much more important than attacking a former Death Eater.

Draco scans for an empty bench but feels much happier, and relieved, when he sees a familiar purple-clad back - Pansy!

She is sitting alone on a bench far removed from the other people. He is grateful to have found her so that he doesn't have to sit out here alone.

He staggers over to her and sits down, pressing his back to hers. He feels her tense but figures he's just startled her.

"You know, if you were coming out here, you could have come and got me," he complains. "And I've decided that you should never leave me alone." He then sighs heavily, feeling weary. "In my time alone tonight, I've come to the conclusion that Potter is a _complete_ prat. And that it's so infuriating how much our world _wants_ to celebrate him. I mean, when it comes down to it, these celebrations are pretty much _solely_ for him. Because we wouldn't be celebrating _anything_ if not for his second defeat of the Dark Lord," he states bitterly, shivering slightly at the mention of his former master. "And I'm not bitter. Really. Kind of. Sort of. But seriously, he was worshiped before this victory; like that stupid scar was some kind of badge of honor or whatever. From the stories, he did nothing more but exist to earn it. I scraped my knee horribly at eight and it scarred badly, does that make me a hero?! Same with his stupid friends. What glory do they deserve? I hear Weasley abandoned Potter and Granger in the middle of their searching for those Horcruxes - like the coward he is. Like, really, _Weasley_ is who I'm supposed to be _grateful_ to for my freedom? Might as well have died or been sent to Azkaban a Death Eater with honor," he says angrily, but then stops because he realizes that he is just drunk rambling and his argument isn't making much sense. It's also not truly how he feels but he's just feeling particularly miserable - and if honest, jealous - tonight. Pansy is _so_ going to hold this against him once he sobers up.

He leans forward, elbows on his knees and places his head in his hands feeling simply run-down. He feels Pansy turn a little as if looking at him. With the stupid things he's said, he knows she's getting ready to start in on him for his ungratefulness because he _knows_ he owes the Golden-trio for his freedom and life. Especially, Harry. He's the reason he's not rotting in a cell in Azkaban right now.

"Look, ignore me," Draco starts apologetically, "I've had way too much to drink and spent too long watching him dance with the she-weasel. I think Weasley is right. They might be in the process of getting back together. Which shouldn't affect me because it has nothing to do with me. But I'm pathetic and egotistical enough to make it about me," he says dispirited into his hands. "And I know you're going to point out that it's my fault that I'm miserable. It's my fault that he still hates me." Draco raises his head, staring off into the distance. "But what else am I supposed to do? If I just leave him alone...then he would just leave me alone. He would _never_ speak to me, because why should he? We don't work in the same departments. We won't _accidentally_ come across each other. And obviously, we aren't friends. It's only my goading and effort that he is even _aware_ of me now," he explains, nearly drowning in his despair. "As pathetic as it is, as childish...if all I'm allowed is his anger, hate, and venom...then...I can be satisfied with just that."

* * *

Pansy steps out of the broom closet, fixing her dress so that it doesn't look like she's been in a broom closet with a handsy man and smooths her hair into something less wild. She wipes away the smudges of her lipstick, worrying about how much time has passed. She knows she's definitely gone over the hour she promised Draco.

She wanted to make it back to him before he drank too much because she knows how he is when he is totally sloshed. He is never just a nice, quiet drunk or silly and fun or even the crying type. For some reason, when alcohol has loosened his tongue the insults flow more freely and he gets more offensive. Also, he can get more depressive. And she knows that Potter being with 'Weaslette' tonight will set that off easily. He shouldn't be dealing with that alone. Which makes her feel a little more guilty for leaving him in the first place even though he said it was okay.

She knows it's unlikely but she wants to hope that he stopped drinking at glass number four and is just impatiently waiting for her to return. However, she won't hold her breath because he loves to drink, especially when he is feeling so despondent.

Blaise exits the closet behind her, straightening his robes and wiping purple lipstick from his mouth. He has a hard time containing a smile but does somber when he notices Pansy seems concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. Fine. Just worried about Draco. I promised him an hour; but more for his well-being than courtesy. You remember what he's like when he's drunk," Pansy explains.

Blaise smiles fondly. "Ah. Yes; those fights were epic. He's an idiot."

"Yeah. So you see the problem? I've left him alone in a room, most likely three sheets to the wind by now, full of people that may hate him and some people that he hates," Pansy says pointedly.

Blaise sobers, looking worried now. "Yeah, you might want to check on him."

"Right. Okay, well, this was fun," Pansy says to him sincerely. "See you at the next one in a few weeks?" she asks, hopeful.

"Oh. Well. Um...it's definitely been fun 'meeting up' with you like this, but I was wondering if maybe you wanna meet up somewhere else...a little sooner. Like at a restaurant for dinner or the cinema this Wednesday?" he says nervously.

Pansy is absolutely surprised by the offer. She knows that she and Blaise have been enjoying their purely physical arrangement, and she thought she and Blaise were on the same page about wanting to keep it that way. But she finds that she isn't really opposed to 'dating' him. When they aren't in the mood for a visit to a broom closet, they do enjoy speaking with each other and have found that they do have much more in common than she would have guessed, and they do compliment each other's personalities.

"Oh. Yeah. Yes, that would be nice," Pansy says enthusiastically.

Blaise beams and seems extremely relieved. "Cool. I'll get in touch with you this week, then," he promises.

"Okay. I better go find Draco before...well, with him, any stupid thing is possible when he's drunk," she says with a chuckle.

"Oh, I know," Blaise says amused. "See you later."

She gives him a small wave, and says, "Bye." And then heads for the ballroom, smiling and feeling unexpectedly elated, and absolutely silly for it. She knows Draco will torment her for being 'girlie' about her future date with Blaise. Usually, she has a 'take it or leave it' attitude with the guys she dates. However, Blaise doesn't feel like he falls into that mindset for her.

Once she is in the ballroom, she makes her way back to where Draco is. Except, she finds the corner empty. She frowns. Pansy looks around the room for Draco or at least signs of him. Examining people for bruises in case he got himself into a fight. Looking for any signs of distress. Hell, looking for blood trails. Because that is how much damage a sloshed Draco can cause. Either because he is in a bad mood or because Draco, in a drunken state, just enjoys the drama.

After a few minutes of searching, Pansy sees no sign of her friend or of anything nefarious having gone down signifying him and decides that maybe he has just gone to the loo because he knows better than to just leave when she expects him to wait for her. She waits about ten minutes before heading over there. She stops a man just exiting the loo and asks if he has seen Draco inside; asking by name because _everyone knows_ the Malfoys, and by description just in case - pale, blonde, grey robes, possibly smashed and bitter.

The man shakes his head but tells her that he saw Draco heading towards the veranda a few moments ago. Pansy thanks him and quickly heads towards the large windowed doors. Still envisioning all the bad things that Draco can start or have happen to him.

Outside, Pansy looks at each bench, searching for a lone figure because she is pretty sure he has not suddenly dropped his antisocial behavior or miraculously became a friendly drunk to have made friends.

She finally spots Draco at a bench that is the furthest away from all the other groups of people. However, she is absolutely confused and stunned to see that he is sitting with _Harry Potter_ ; with his back to Potter, leaning against him but staring down at his hands. Potter is partially sideways, looking at Draco as if in awe of him which confuses her even more.

However, what really throws Pansy is that the two of them _aren't_ screaming at each other, getting ready to tear one another apart or hex each other into oblivion. Honestly, she is unsure of what to think or do; if anything _should_ be done. She's so used to breaking them apart with Weasley's help when they fight that it's almost second-nature. So, she feels completely at a loss at what should be done - if anything - when they are just existing together amicably.

Pansy hesitates before starting towards them slowly, because she doesn't really want to interrupt them and break their peace but she feels she should at least check on Draco just to be sure he is okay and to let him know that she's around if he needs her. Hopefully, if he does need her it won't be because he needs help cleaning up his bloody nose or icing a bruised eye or both.

When she gets closer, she hears Draco say, "...Then I can be satisfied with just that," so despairingly it nearly breaks her heart; just like all the other times she's heard him say that. Which means he's fully drunk because he only gets this depressed and honest after drinking too much and most of his drunk conversations tend to repeat. So she knows which conversation that sentence belongs to, and that alarms her because she's not sure why he's having this particular conversation with _Potter_.

Draco sighs heavily, still seemingly lost in thought. "God, Pansy, I seriously wish I could just take a potion to get Potter out of my system - get him out of my head. I'd Obliviate myself but self-obliviation doesn't always go well. And I trust no one else to do it for me."

At hearing her name, Pansy covers her mouth, stifling a gasp.

 _Oh my, God, he thinks he's talking to me!_

Potter notices her then and gives her a look that seems to ask that she not reveal herself to Draco just yet. And for some reason she obeys. And then she wonders why Potter hasn't corrected Draco. She's sure this conversation has gone on for a bit and Potter had to know from the beginning that Draco wasn't _intentionally_ speaking to _him_.

Suddenly, Pansy feels a protective anger swell in her. If Potter is letting Draco go on just so that he can use it against him later, she _will_ kill him. Savior of the wizarding world be damned.

However, she doesn't think Potter means anything malicious by letting Draco ramble as she remembers the awe she noticed in his face when first seeing them together. Potter is just simply listening to Draco. And it makes Pansy desperately curious as to why.

Draco gives a sudden self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head. "Who the hell am I kidding? I wouldn't erase him if I could. I may hate the way we are; sometimes, _truly_ hate him because of how he makes me feel; makes me act. But I would miss how it feels having his stupid vivid green eyes on me. Miss the way, even in anger, they seem to just look right into my soul and just know what parts to pick at that would make my anger and pain burn hotter. He's also one of the very few people that can look at me without disgust for my past; like he can only see the _current_ anger-inducing things I do to him. And even when I've pushed him too far, he's never called me a 'disgusting, pathetic Death Eater'. Unlike Weasley, who _loves_ to shout that whenever a big enough crowd has gathered for Harry's and mines daily rows." He sighs softly. "Stupid, I know, Pansy, to like Potter and to want him around just because he fights with me solely because I piss him off and not just because I exist and 'Death Eater' gives him the right. Twistedly, he's the only person that makes me _feel something_ in my constant apathy. Even if it's not healthy or right."

Draco goes quiet and Pansy wants to go to him, to bring him out of his desolation. She hates when he gets this way and always tries to cut him off when he starts. Before she can take a step towards Draco, Potter seeks out her eyes and shakes his head slightly. A plea in his expression. A plea she understands as 'wait'.

She hesitates between needing to stop Draco's anguish and doing what Potter wants, which she is still not sure why she is even complying with his requests. But as she sees that Potter is just watching Draco intently, as if truly concerned, she figures maybe he knows - like she's learning - that maybe this is just something Draco needs to get out without her interrupting him, regardless of Potter being witness to his drunk, depressed ramblings.

After a moment, Draco continues, "I've just been coasting aimlessly through life these past post-war months. I do what I'm supposed to. I do the minimal of what is socially expected of me, but that means nothing to me. I don't give a damn what the world thinks of me and my family. If you would just leave me to my own devices, I'd be happy wasting away in the manor."

His tone is simply matter-of-fact and so honest that it breaks Pansy's heart more than usual. She didn't know he had gotten this bad. True, she knew he wasn't exactly happy and that he could get really moody and dark easily but it just seemed like a new facet to his personality. How could you _not_ develop a bleak outlook on life with the history Draco has or with the way he's been treated because of the mark he was forced to take?

Pansy also feels guilty for not trying to talk to him more keenly about how he was really doing. She was always quick to accept his 'I'm okays' because she just didn't want him to dwell on the misery in his life. She thought avoidance would help him. Obviously not.

She glances over at Potter nervously, realizing that this is much more personal than she thinks he should be privy to. She searches his face for any expression of revulsion or malicious pleasure that he's gotten something amazing to torment Draco with but all she finds is honest curiosity and surprise. It's also tinged with a look like Potter is seeing Draco for the first time, and isn't put off by it. Which Pansy knows is accurate. Potter has never seen the _real_ Draco and she definitely thinks he would like _that_ version much better than the bastard that needs to provoke him and his friends into fights nearly every day.

Draco then leans back against Potter's side, looking thoughtful. After a moment, his expression changes like he's had a sudden realization. "You know, Pansy," he starts softly, "If truthful...I think...I think I might lo-"

"Okay, darling! I think that is enough confessions for tonight!" Pansy calls loudly, pointedly, startling both men. She is proud that Draco has finally figured out what she already knew years ago but doesn't think Potter is ready just yet for _that_ particular declaration.

She walks over to them quickly, noticing that Potter's eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed. So he obviously knows what Draco nearly said. However, She finds it curious that Potter doesn't seem freaked out or appalled by it; like she assumed he would be.

So, maybe Draco _isn't_ alone in his epiphany, she hopes.

Draco stares opened-mouth at her, absolutely stunned and confused. He then stands up swiftly, nearly losing his balance. Potter is quick to stand and steady him. He then turns to Potter, studying him. It seems to take him a moment before he realizes who Potter is.

"You're not Pansy!" Draco accuses Potter sharply.

Potter gives him a small sheepish grin, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. "No. I'm not. But you seemed like you needed to get that out, so, I didn't want to interrupt you," he says, guilt tinging his statement as he probably realizes he really should have stopped Draco the moment he started.

Pansy feels the same way, that she should have revealed herself the minute she heard Draco speak her name to Potter but she doesn't really regret letting this play out. Maybe it was something that _needed_ to happen.

Draco then pales, looking mortified. "Oh my, God. I said...Christ, I said," he stammers, starting to panic.

Pansy grabs Draco's arm, trying to ground him and get his attention.

He turns to look at her, a plea for help in his eyes before it shifts into a scowl and Pansy decides that she will be the best friend that she is supposed to be - now - to save herself and Potter, because drunk Draco can be downright cruel when he is panicking because he needs to make others feel worse than he's feeling.

"And that is our cue to leave before he takes it all back and calls you something nasty and sets off one of your epic rows," Pansy tells Potter, wrapping her arm around Draco's.

Potter looks a little confused, and hesitant, before he nods. "Right. Probably the smart thing to do," he agrees.

"Goodnight. And just for politeness sake, sorry. He's...drunk and gets weird," she explains awkwardly but a little amused.

Potter gives a small laugh. "I caught on to that. It's fine."

Pansy just gives him a smile and wave and pulls Draco, who has thankfully been mortified into silence as far as she can tell, back towards the ballroom with her. He moves with her easily.

"So. Is he an honest drunk or a melodramatic one?" Potter calls.

Pansy stops and looks at Potter over her shoulder. "Both," she answers simply.

"Okay," Potter responds awkwardly and says nothing more.

She resumes walking with Draco but Potter calls out again.

"Um, Parkin-Pansy?"

She stops again and looks at Potter, waiting.

"Er," he hesitates.

She waits as Potter seems to be considering what he's going to say.

His face is a dark crimson as he finally says, "When he sobers up, or whatever...tell him Ginny and I aren't getting back together. We are just really good friends."

Pansy considers that and then beams. "Or...when he sobers up, I can send him your way and you can tell him that yourself?" she suggests.

Potter is thoughtful a minute before nods. "Yeah. That might be better," he says with a small smile.

"I will owl you tomorrow then," Pansy promises, grinning.

"Sounds like a plan. Goodnight," Potter says brightly.

Pansy nods at him and resumes leading Draco back to the ballroom.

* * *

After they collect their coats, Pansy leads Draco out to the main street and they start for an Apparition point a few blocks down. He has been silent the entire time, just following her tugging and she wonders, somewhat worryingly, if maybe she and Potter broke him. She understands how mortified he must be feeling but hopes that he'll get over it when he realizes that Potter is willing to see him and pretty much said he was interested.

When they reach the Apparation point Draco seems to finally snap out of his stony silence, turning to look at her and seems to be searching for something to say.

"Your home or mine?" she asks easily.

Draco doesn't reply, just continues to study her.

"Draco, dear?" Pansy prompts.

"I told you, you looked like a damn boy."

Pansy simply bursts into laughter.


End file.
